


Green Is The Colour

by jimingyu



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Complete, M/M, inspired by a photo posted on insta, the one with the isolated colors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimingyu/pseuds/jimingyu
Summary: How can you explain the colors of the world to someone who has never seen them?





	Green Is The Colour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [confectionary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/confectionary/gifts).



> hello! this is a gift the lovely hailhoshi on twitter! i hope you love it! this work was inspired by the photo posted on Instagram of the isolated color, and so this au was born! 
> 
> this is a little different from my usual writing style- it's more descriptive with less dialogue & character development, but this was meant to be a one-shot, so that's how it is. 
> 
> thank you for reading, & enjoy! 
> 
> ~ cj ♡

~

 

_ How do you explain color to someone who has never seen it? _

 

That is the question every parent asks themselves when their child is born.

 

How do you tell your child that the world isn’t all just shades of gray? How do you explain that the leaves turn different hues of  _ red _ ,  _ orange _ , and  _ yellow  _ in the Autumn, and then revert back to their natural shade of  _ green  _ in the Spring? How do you explain the natural refraction of light that turns the sky  _ blue  _ or the chemicals that make your eyes  _ brown _ ?  _ How  _ do you explain something like that?

 

Of course, there’s books, there’s documentaries, there’s been studies conducted to best explain the colors of the world, but nothing does it justice. Nothing can compare to seeing it. 

 

That’s what Mingyu believes. That is, until he meets Minghao.

 

~

 

**_Blue_ **

 

Mingyu knew that his eyes were brown. He knew that his skin was a different shade of brown that wasn’t exactly “brown”, but “tan” as his mother called it. He knew that his hair was black. He knew that the walls of his bedroom were white. He knew that his mother wore red lipstick. What the lipstick actually looked like, he had no clue. He just knew it was red. 

 

In school, it was protocol to explain the systematic way in which soulmates found each other. At a very young age, Mingyu and his classmates were taken into a dark room, shown a short black and white film, and their reactions were recorded. Afterwards, unbeknownst to them, they were shown another short film in full color. The lights flicked on.

 

“Can anyone tell me the difference in those two films?” was the first question they were asked. A girl named Katie raised her hand. “They had different characters!” Mingyu thought the lanky old man in front of the room could’ve made the question a bit more clear. The old man shook his head, and smiled gently at Katie. “I’m sure you children can point out plenty of differences between those two films. But there’s one particular difference I want you to realize,” the old man waited until he had everyone’s attention, and pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket. 

 

“What color is this?” he asked the class. Collectively, the class shared looks of confusion, and mumbled concerns having never been asked that kind of question before. Mingyu didn’t raise his hand before he spoke: “Sir,” he called, getting the old man’s attention. “What do you mean?”

 

The old man smiled and Mingyu had to stop himself from looking away. 

 

“You children are going to undergo many changes in your life,” he began, folding the handkerchief into a square. “Possibly the biggest change will be with your sense of sight. Your eyes only see shades of gray for right now. You’re all very familiar with the color gray, yes?” The class all nodded.

 

“Over the next few years of your schooling, your teachers are going to be introducing a series of colors to you through association with your other four senses. Do you understand?” The class whispered amongst themselves, all agreeing that they did not understand what the old man was saying. 

 

“I’ll give you an example,” The old man sighed, and pulled a picture of the sky from the wall. Mingyu knew it was the sky because of the puffy clouds, and the round sun. It had been drawn by one of his classmates. “In this picture that Seokmin drew, he colored the sky  _ orange _ . Of course, he didn’t know what color the sky was supposed to be because he’s never seen it. The sky,” the old man motioned to the picture, circling his hand around what Mingyu assumed was orange. “is actually  _ blue. _ Let me explain blue to you. Listen carefully.”

 

The old man pulled out a thin notebook and began reading from it. Immediately, Mingyu knew that this would be of no help to him. 

 

“Blue is the color of the sky. Blue is the color that is reflected onto water, but that does not mean that water is blue. Blue can be happy or sad or calming. It depends on how you see it,” the old man paused, looking up to make sure the children were still paying attention. Mingyu was annoyed with his voice, and the way he spoke to them. They were children, but they weren’t any less human beings than him just because they were unable to see color.

 

“Blue is the feeling of being wrapped in a warm blanket. Blue is the feeling of resting your head against your mother’s chest and crying after a bad day. Blue is a cold front blowing in and bringing fresh, clean air with it. Blue is rain dripping onto the sidewalk, and puddles forming on the concrete. Blue is a paintbrush gliding across a canvas, and being washed clean afterwards. Blue is feeling the wind blow around you, seeing snow fall from the sky, and hearing birds chirp in the morning.” 

 

The old man stopped there and closed the notebook. Still, Mingyu could not grasp the color blue.

 

~

 

**_Yellow_ **

 

“Mama,” Mingyu called. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading, and had stumbled across a word he didn’t know. His mother was cooking something that smelled  _ delicious _ and Mingyu was trying to keep his stomach from rumbling. His mother hummed in response. “What’s this word?” he asked. The word was just a little too complicated for his 10-year-old brain to sort out. 

 

Mingyu’s mother skimmed the paragraph he pointed to, and came to the word he was having trouble with. “That says ‘champagne’, love. It’s being used to describe the color of something though, so I’ll tell you more about it when you’re older.” She ruffled Mingyu’s hair, and went back to the stove. “What’s jampagne, Mama?” he questioned. This was pretty much a nightly occurrence for the two of them- Mingyu would read at the table while his mother cooked dinner, and he would ask her questions in between his mother’s humming. 

 

“ _ Cham _ pagne is a type of drink for adults, baby. It’s kind of a clear color, but it has a tint of yellow in it.” 

 

“Yellow like Easter Lilies?” Mingyu asked. His mother helped him identify colors by looking at pictures of flowers. That way, when he was able to see colors, he would know what they were called by looking at the flowers. Mingyu even had a little sketchbook with flower pictures cut out from magazines that he tried to recreate. His mother always helped him pick which crayons to use on each flower.

 

“Yes, like Easter Lilies!” she laughed, and Mingyu thought that it was pretty yellow. His mother’s laugh, that is. It was light and genuine, and she always sounded so happy when she talked to him. “Your laugh is kinda yellow, Mama.” he said, smiling as his mother turned to face him. “What do you mean, Gyu?” Mingyu pulled his sketchbook out from underneath the other book he was reading, and opened to the page he knew contained an Easter Lily.

 

“See!” he said, pointing to his drawing of a yellow Easter Lily. Mingyu thought his drawings all came out pretty well, and he knew that his mother thought the same thing. “I think that’s what color your laugh is! Even though I can’t see yellow  _ or  _ your laugh, I think it would be that color if I could.” 

 

Mingyu’s mother pulled him into a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and sat his chin against her stomach to look up at her. “I think you’re yellow, Mama.”

 

~

 

**_Red_ **

 

Minghao heard a  _ thump  _ from across the school courtyard. It was lunch time, and none of the high schoolers who ate outside this time of year were usually very active, choosing instead to lounge in the sun and eat their lunch in peace. Today was different in a few ways that Minghao had noticed: the sky was overcast, and Minghao expected rain to begin falling any moment; both of his best friends were absent, which left Minghao sitting alone at their usual picnic table, going over his notes for Calculus. Lastly, a group of kids that Minghao didn’t recognize were sitting at the table across the courtyard from him.

 

Minghao went to a relatively small school, and knew pretty much everyone there, so seeing  _ one  _ person, let alone a  _ group  _ of people he didn’t recognize was a little suspicious. Minghao looked up from his notebook at the sound of another  _ thump  _ and what he thought was a muffled scream. He got up slowly, walking carefully towards the sound. 

 

Peeking around the brick wall, Minghao saw the group of kids more clearly: two of the boys looked huge and were probably a year or so older than him. One of them wore a tight leather jacket that hugged his biceps in a way that Minghao assumed was supposed to look threatening, but just made him look like a Slim-Jim that was too big for it’s wrapper. The other wore a similar jacket, but it hung from his thin frame. It made him look a bit smaller, but no less tall. 

 

What really scared Minghao, though, was the two girls sitting on top of the picnic table. They both wore short skirts, tight crop tops, fishnet stockings, and jackets that resembled the boys’. Their faces were all sharp lines, defined cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and glossy lips. Minghao had admittedly always been a little intimidated by girls just because they were  _ scary,  _ but these girls redefined what he thought qualified as “scary”. 

 

The worst part about this whole situation, is that Minghao hadn’t yet peeked around the corner far enough the see where the thumping was coming from. All of a sudden, the group cheered, and Minghao heard a  _ crack  _ instead of a  _ thump.  _ His whole body was around the corner at this point, and what he saw made him feel several things:

 

A boy, smaller than the other two, but bigger than the girls, was straddling another boy who was  _ definitely  _ smaller than the boys, and might’ve been lighter than the girls. Minghao could tell from his body language that the boy on the ground was terrified and in pain, but he couldn’t see his face. He was shielding his face as well as he could from the other boys swings, and Minghao didn’t want to watch anymore. One good hit to the ribs, and the boy turned on his side and his eyes travelled hazily up Minghao’s figure. 

 

It was Joshua- he was a couple years older than Minghao, but in a few of his classes. Joshua had never been anything but friendly to him, and Minghao knew that he couldn’t leave him like this. Minghao prayed to whatever god was listening that he retained some skills from the martial arts classes he took as a kid. 

 

~

 

Minghao laid in the bed beside Joshua’s in the nurses station, holding one ice pack against his own bruised ribs, and the other against Joshua’s bare shoulder. The older boy was asleep, had been knocked clean out by the time Minghao was able to get him in the bed. The nurse told him that Joshua had dislocated his shoulder, and would be pretty badly bruised in a few spots, but he would recover fine. Minghao had only sustained a few punches to the gut before he scooped Joshua up into his arms and got the hell out of there. 

 

News travels remarkably fast in a small school, and before Joshua regained consciousness, his boyfriend, Jeonghan was rushing through the door, and kneeling beside Joshua’s bed. “Josh,” he mumbled, tears streaking down his cheeks. “What happened, Minghao?” Jeonghan directed his gaze up at him, and Minghao shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he said, repositioning the ice pack on Joshua’s shoulder. “I heard some sounds coming from the other side of the courtyard, and saw a group of kids I didn’t recognize, so I went over to see what was going on, and found him on the ground with another kid on top of him. I don’t know why they would do something like that to Joshua of all people.” 

 

Jeonghan wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Is his shoulder dislocated?” he asked, thumb tracing over the bruises blooming there. Minghao hoped it was just bruising and not blood. He couldn’t tell. “Yeah. The nurse said she’ll put it back in when he wakes up. He blacked out before I even got him here.” Minghao was physically exhausted, and talking wasn’t doing anything to help it, but Jeonghan deserved to know if his soulmate was going to be okay. 

 

“Thank you, Minghao,” Jeonghan said. His palm was resting on Joshua’s stomach, his fingers caressing the bruises there as if urging them to heal. It looked tender and loving, and Minghao was struck with a pang of jealousy. “My Joshua isn’t much of a fighter, and I don’t know what he did to provoke those guys, but I’m really glad you were there. And I hope you’re not hurt top badly.” Minghao smiled at the couple. His jealousy had evaporated within two simple sentences.

 

“I’m okay. I promise. I’m happy that Joshua’s alright.” 

 

~

 

That night, Minghao laid on his back with an ice pack on his stomach, and tried to remember what he was taught about colors when he was younger. About associating them with the other four senses. 

 

If Minghao had to put a color to today, it would be a fiery red. Seeing one of his friends hurt made him see red- not really, but it made him  _ feel _ red. 

 

For once in his life, Minghao wished he would have continued to see gray for the rest of the day.

 

~

 

**_Pink_ **

 

         Minghao had dreaded this night his entire life: his first college party. Seungcheol had dragged him to a house that belonged to the parent's of one of his friends, but the parents were out of town for the weekend, and “you know what that means” was how Seungcheol described the party. Now, Minghao was shoved into a dark corner in a house he wasn't even remotely familiar with, smoke clouding around him, the flashing lights and pounding music beating into his head and eyes. 

 

He would've asked Seungcheol to take him home hours ago, but the older man had been hammered the last time he'd seen him. Minghao lost track of time around 11:30 when his phone died, and was now scouring the kitchen for a charger. 

 

_ Finally,  _ after ten minutes, he managed to find one, and powered his phone on as he took a seat on one of the barstools. The house was spacious, and the kitchen was closed off from the rest of the party, but Minghao could still feel the trap music thumping behind his eyes. He rubbed his temples and prayed for his phone to power on.

 

Three minutes later, a slew of text messages appeared on his phone. Four from Seungkwan, three from Jeonghan, and three from Joshua. All of them asking in varying degrees of worry where the hell Minghao was and if he needed a ride home. Just as Minghao positioned his hands over his phone to type out a message, a hand ran over his shoulders. 

 

“Are you here all by yourself?” a feminine voice asked, and Minghao shivered. He nodded, and looked to his left to see a dark-headed girl with a  _ lot  _ of makeup covering her features. Minghao wasn't sure what she actually looked like because of it. The girl stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “Poor baby. Come with me, I'll take care of you.” She slid her hand down Minghao’s arm, gripping at his bicep, and hoisting him to his feet. 

 

Minghao’s tongue was numb in his throat. He didn't know what to do, he didn't want to be here in the first place, and now some random girl was leading him by the arm to god-knows-where. With his free hand, Minghao typed out “HEKP” to whoever sent him the last message, and hoped his phone didn't die before he could get out of this situation. 

 

Up the stairs and around a corner, Minghao was being pushed into a bathroom, and- oh,  _ god _ , did this girl think they were going to have sex? Oh, god, no. No, no,  _ no.  _

 

“I-I’m really sorry, but I have to go.” he stuttered. The girl was pushing him up against the counter, and she wasn't hearing any of it. “Stay here,” she whispered, her hands traveling up Minghao’s waist. “We don't even know each other’s names.” 

 

“Then isn't it a bit too soon to be doing  _ this? _ ” he asked, prying her hands from his side. Minghao held the girl’s hands out in front of him, and tried to distance himself. “Look, I'm really sorry, but I have to go. You're drunk, and neither of us really want this.” Minghao was generally a very soft-spoken person, but he wasn't about to have drunken sex with a stranger in another stranger's bathroom. That just went against  _ way _ too many of his morals. 

 

The bathroom mirror was fogging up, and Minghao couldn't quite grasp the door handle from where he was standing. He noticed that the girl’s cheeks were tinted a different shade now, and vaguely recalled his mother applying her makeup when he was younger: “It's called  _ blush _ , HaoHao. It's pink. You blush when you're embarrassed or happy.” 

 

Maybe this girl was embarrassed. 

 

“I have to go,” he reiterated, placing the girl’s hand at her sides. “My friends are waiting for me outside.” That was true- Minghao’s phone had been vibrating non-stop since they entered the bathroom. The girl was pouting again, and Minghao didn't have the energy to feel bad about it, so he walked out. 

 

“Where  _ were _ you? We've been calling you for fifteen minutes, Hao!” Joshua sat in the driver's seat, hand on his soulmate’s arm, trying to coax him back into the car. Minghao smiled at Jeonghan, patted his cheek before he climbed into the back seat with Seungkwan. “Some girl had me holed up in the bathroom. She was drunk though, and I wasn't gonna let her do anything.” 

 

“Good boy,” Joshua mumbled, reaching around to pat Minghao’s hair. “So, parties aren't really your thing, I take it?” 

 

Minghao didn't go to another party after that. 

 

~

 

**_Purple_ **

 

           Mingyu didn't know it was even possible to be this exhausted. When he decided to major in Botany, he really didn't expect it to bring him numerous sleepless nights and throbbing headaches. 

He took a sip of his water, and leaned his head back against the wall. The library was closing in fifteen minutes and he needed to leave, but he just couldn't find it in himself to get up from the floor. They wouldn't mind if he stayed here until morning, right? Other students had done that before. It wasn't a big deal in the 90s. 

 

“This isn't the 90s, Mingyu.” he mumbled to himself. That was a sign that he was  _ really  _ tired. 

 

Mingyu closed his laptop, shoved it roughly into his backpack, and steadied himself against the wall before hoisting his body up. His feet had fallen asleep about three hours ago, so it wasn't a surprise when they began to tingle on the walk back to his dorm. Mingyu slid his key card through the door, and toed off his shoes once inside. 

 

“Why the fuck are you just now getting back?” his roommate, Wonwoo, asked from the other side of the room. Mingyu just groaned at him and headed towards the bathroom. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, and changed into his pajamas,  _ then  _ he answered Wonwoo. 

 

“Got distracted by plants.” Mingyu mumbled into his pillowcase. “Sure,” Wonwoo chuckled, and turned off his bedside lamp. “Go to sleep, you idiot.” 

 

Mingyu thought Wonwoo was very purple. He was a literature major who spent his free time in coffee shops, the library, and tutored young kids from the high school nearby. Wonwoo was also very quick-witted, and Mingyu sometimes had a hard time keeping up a conversation with him if he wasn't well rested. Wonwoo was one of those people that wore jeans in the Summer, and who looked perpetually sleepy, but still somehow alert and focused at the same time. 

 

Mingyu found comfort in Wonwoo through his four years of college. His vast mind and humble thoughts helped Mingyu stay grounded, and for a long time, Mingyu wished that Wonwoo was his soulmate. But when Seokmin came to visit Mingyu, and he brought Wonwoo along, he knew. Their faces both lit up in a way that Mingyu still couldn't describe the moment their eyes met. Mingyu liked to imagine the burst of color his childhood best friend saw before his eyes, and he was happy that the first thing he got to see in color was Wonwoo in a dark purple cardigan, with the coffee shop as a backdrop. 

 

Mingyu was content to believe that purple was no longer his favorite color.

 

~

 

**_Green_ **

 

            Edgar Alexander Xu is Minghao’s seven-year-old Pomeranian, and the boy would honestly do anything for him, but his excessive sniffing of one spot on the grass was getting tedious. Minghao tugged on his leash a little bit. 

 

“Eggie, come on. We won't make it home before it rains if you keep sniffing the ground.”

 

But Edgar was a cantankerous old fart, and he wasn't moving from his spot. It was strangely warm outside for mid-August, and Minghao decided against bringing a jacket on his and Edgar’s daily walk through the park. He didn't realize until them left the house that the sky was clouded, the scent of impending rain hanging heavy in the air, and the forecast called for a thunderstorm. 

 

Minghao pulled on Edgar’s leash again. The dog’s feet were a little muddy, and he didn't like being picked up, so Minghao tried to avoid holding him at all costs. Even so, he was beginning to think Edgar would make him resort to that. 

 

A soft tap on his shoulder turned his attention to another dog- a beautiful chocolate labrador with curious eyes and a wet nose -snuffling at his feet. 

 

“Need some help?” Minghao followed the leash up to find the person speaking. It was a tall, dark-headed man, and Minghao had a sudden urge to fall into this man’s arms, bury his nose into his collarbones, and stay there forever. 

 

Then it hit him. The color. 

 

He knew it was green, felt it in the throbbing in his temples. It was as if his eyes were growing in their sockets, expanding to make room for the new information they were about to receive. Minghao shut his eyes once, squeezed them together in hopes that the pain would subside, but it didn't. 

 

The man reached out a latched onto his arm, leash dangling from his wrist, his other hand pressing into his eyes. Minghao didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to close his eyes, didn't want to  _ be _ in this moment, but he was here. He was here with color bursting before him, and a gorgeous man gripping his arm and whimpering in pain, and Minghao acted before his mind could catch up with his limbs.

 

He wrapped his hand around the man’s, slotted their fingers together, and pulled him to his chest. He had quite a bit of height on Minghao, but his hands still trembled as they circled Minghao’s waist, holding tight to the fabric. 

 

“Green,” the man whispered. Minghao heard his breathing near his ear, felt a tear streak down his neck, and shut his eyes tight. “Green is the color of nature, of growing,” Minghao raised his hand from the man’s hip, bringing it up to run his fingers through the hair.  _ Brown hair.  _

 

His fingers were trembling, as well. Minghao couldn't open his eyes. Nothing would be gray anymore- nothing would be dull. Everything would be vibrant, bright, and so electrifyingly intense, and Minghao didn't know if his eyes could handle it- didn't know if his eyes had enough space to take it all in. He pulled the man impossibly closer to him, and he melted into the touch. Minghao wasn't embarrassed to say that he had done the same thing when he initiated the embrace. 

 

“I'm Mingyu,” the man (Mingyu) spoke again. His hands were more steady now, and he pulled at the fabric of Minghao’s thin shirt. “Did you know that you're wearing a purple shirt?” Minghao chuckled, still carding his fingers through Mingyu’s soft hair, feeling their chests rise and fall together. 

 

His eyes remained closed. 

 

“I wasn't sure. I knew it was a dark color.”

 

“It is a dark color,” Mingyu rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. “I think this is the color of eggplants, but I could be wrong. Purple is my favorite color.” 

 

Minghao couldn't keep the smile from his face. He wanted to open his eyes, but the underlying fear that he would combust or something was still present. Mingyu pulled away from him, laying a hand on Minghao’s chest, over his heart. 

 

“Aren't you going to open your eyes?” he asked. Minghao could hear both the smile and concern in Mingyu’s gentle voice. “Eventually,” he replied. “What color are your eyes?” Why that was the question he asked, Minghao had no idea. He wasn't ready to see the world in its  _ natural _ state yet, but he wanted to see Mingyu in  _ every  _ state: sleepy, excited, in love, joyful,  _ natural _ . 

 

Minghao had only glanced at Mingyu, but it was enough to make him want to experience the colors of the world with him. 

 

Minghao opened his eyes. 

 

~

 

**_Gray_ **

 

         Mingyu knew that his eyes were brown. He knew that his skin was a different shade of brown, but not exactly brown. He knew that his hair was black.

 

He knew that Minghao’s eyes were brown, but they glinted in the sunlight and turned the same shade as melting milk chocolate, or coffee with too much creamer- the way Minghao drank it. Mingyu knew that Minghao’s skin was brown, but not exactly brown because it was lighter than his own. He knew that Minghao’s skin turned red in the Summer, but always returned back to its glowing state when the weather turned colder. Mingyu knew that Minghao’s hair had been a few colors since they met, but was naturally black- he remembers the first time Minghao dyed it a caramel brown and Mingyu nearly pissed down his leg out of excitement. 

 

Mingyu knew that Minghao’s cheeks turned pink whenever he received a kiss on the cheek in front of their parents. Mingyu also knew that Minghao’s neck and chest flushed a darker shade of pink when he was laid out beneath him, pliant, malleable, and completely nude for him. Mingyu was beginning to think that Minghao’s skin could turn any color it wanted, and it was always his favorite. 

 

Mingyu knew that Minghao loved the color yellow, and that the picture of them on his phone's lock screen was a perfect example: they both wore faded denim jackets, and we're standing in front of a bright yellow brick wall, the sun shining on their faces, and Mingyu was so  _ in love.  _

 

Mingyu knew that Minghao cherished the amethyst stone in the rings they shared. Purple- a color suited for royalty, symbolizing mindfulness, maturity, and choreographed chaos. There was no better way to solidify their relationship than with engagement rings adorned with amethyst. 

 

Mingyu knew that Minghao loved him- loved him more than all the colors in the world. Minghao had never seen a gray day since stumbling into Mingyu and seeing  _ green _ . 

 

From then on, everything was a calming sea of blue, and pale sunflower yellow, a passionate velvet red, a blooming purple, an exotic green, and the endless brown eyes that greeted the two every morning and every night. 

 

Green was the color that introduced an entire spectrum of hues. And Minghao and Mingyu couldn't be happier. 

**Author's Note:**

> what did you think? I'd love to hear from you! leave comments here, or come talk to me on twitter @gyuquartz !
> 
> again, thank you for reading, & have a wonderful day/night! ily ♡ 
> 
> ~ cj


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